


Your Turn

by abp



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abp/pseuds/abp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre loves his family, even if they deprive him of sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Turn

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a post about how Combeferre would be a great dad and I needed it in my life. (And still need more)

It wasn’t the crying that woke Combeferre, rather it was the repeated whine of “it’s your turn” and an insistent hand nudging him between his shoulder blades. Combeferre groaned and lazily kicked Courfeyrac in the shin.

“ _Your turn_ ,” Courfeyrac insisted again, voice sleep heavy. This time he shoved Combeferre a little harder, nearly pushing him out of bed.

Combeferre gasped at the almost-falling sensation, feeling his heart pick up and a sudden wakefulness surge through him. “Bastard,” he grumbled, but climbed out of bed. Exactly as Courfeyrac knew he would, no doubt.

After a moment spent groping for his glasses on the nightstand, Combeferre stumbled out of the bedroom and down the hall to the source of the crying.

“Shh, I’m here, sweetheart,” he soothed as he took the three-month-old child up out of her crib. “Come on, Lucie, it’s alright.”

She paused momentarily as Combeferre started rocking her in his arms, then picked up with her wailing. Combeferre sighed and checked her diaper first. Not the problem.

“Are you hungry?” he tried. “Come on, we’ll get you a bottle.”

With ease, Combeferre went through the motions of maneuvering through the kitchen and heating up a bottle. It was second nature—even at 2 in the morning. Finally, he had the bottle in Lucie’s mouth and sighed in relief as she quieted.

“I thought you had learned to sleep through the night, huh?” he murmured, leaning against the kitchen counter while she sucked hungrily at the milk. “Or is that only on nights where your father’s on baby duty?” She slurped loudly and he nodded gravely down at her. “Yes, I thought so.”

Combeferre’s attention was averted suddenly by the sound of footsteps on the kitchen tiles. He looked up to find their two-year-old toddling in, rubbing at her sleepy eyes.

“Daddy?” Her lower lip wobbled and she crossed the kitchen to clutch at Combeferre’s leg and wipe her nose against his sweatpants.

“What’s wrong, Charlotte?” he asked softly. 

She sniffled and looked up at him seriously. “Monsters.”

Combeferre paused thoughtfully. “Can you let go of me for a moment? We can move to the couch and you can sit on my lap, okay?”

Charlotte nodded back and released her grip on his leg.

Lucie was still sucking at the bottle as Combeferre led the way to the living room couch, positioning himself properly so he had a firm grip on Lucie but enough space for Charlotte to crawl into his lap.

She grabbed at his shirt now and snuggled against his chest.

“Daddy’s here. Nothing will hurt you, Char,” he soothed, wishing he had a free arm to wrap around her.

Charlotte nodded against his chest, her messy dark curls shaking with the movement. “Can we story?” she asked, looking up shyly.

“Of course.” Combeferre smiled indulgently. “Once upon a time, there was a…”

“Charlotte!” she chimed in.

“And Charlotte was a princess.”

“Iron Man!”

“Was a Princess _Iron Man_ ,” Combeferre amended, grinning. “And she was the most wonderful Princess—and Iron Man—in all of her kingdom. Every day, Princess Iron Man Charlotte would….”

The story continued between them until Combeferre found Lucie dozing in his arms. He pulled the bottle from her mouth and left it carelessly on the couch. “Let’s put your sister to bed, alright?”

Charlotte gave him a pout and he ruffled her curls.

“Come on, Char, we’ll finish the story as soon as Lucie’s back in her crib.” Very carefully, he adjusted Lucie in one arm and picked up Charlotte with the other, balancing her on his hip. She squealed at the motion and hid her face in his neck.

Once Lucie was settled in her crib, Combeferre carried Charlotte back to her bedroom. He squeezed onto her little bed, legs folded up to fit. Charlotte chose to lay on top of his chest now. “Where were we, honey?” he asked softly, rubbing circles on her back.

She looked up at him. “I—“ A wide yawn escaped her and she let her head fall back to his chest. “—saved the whole world.”

“Right. Princess Iron Man Charlotte and her sidekick, Napoleon the flying cat, saved the whole world from the monsters.”

“And Daddy too. I saved Daddy,” she murmured sleepily.

Combeferre smiled softly. “Yes you did. And Daddy gave you a big hug and lots of kisses.”

“And ice cream?”

“Yes, and ice cream. And everyone lived happily ever after. The end.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Charlotte’s head. “Now it’s time for bed, little one.”

Combeferre started to move her slowly, trying to work his way out from under her without disturbing her too much.

 She gripped at his shirt suddenly. “If you leave the monsters will come back.” She sounded only half awake.

“Alright,” Combeferre sighed, fully intending to leave as soon as she was lulled completely to sleep. For now, he tried to position himself as comfortably as he could in a bed clearly not made to fit a grown man. He watched Charlotte’s back rise and fall softly with her breathing and stroked her hair gently. Only a few minutes and she’d be out—then he could _finally_ get back to bed and maybe not be a complete zombie at work.

The next thing Combeferre knew, he was waking up to something poking his cheek repeatedly. He opened his eyes, feeling groggy and sore. “Wha—“

“Shh,” Courfeyrac shushed from his place, standing over the bed. “Char’s still sleeping.”

The room was light and Combeferre could tell it was morning—probably past when he should have gotten up. Very carefully, he extracted himself from underneath Charlotte and covered her with a blanket. He groaned again as he stood up and felt anew how much he wasn’t meant to sleep cramped in a bed like that.

Courfeyrac was smiling at him lovingly as he laced their fingers and dragged Combeferre towards the bedroom. “Is there time for morning sex?” Courfeyrac asked as soon as the door was closed behind them. “Because seeing you all _fatherly_ makes me want to pin you to the bed and _do_ things to you. Dirty things. With my mouth.”

Combeferre’s laughter stopped short as Courfeyrac pinned him against the door, hands on either side of his head. “There’s not time, is there?” Courfeyrac sighed, leaning in to just press their lips together.

“No,” Combeferre admitted.

“Shower sex?” Courfeyrac was leaving kisses along his jaw now and moving down to his neck.

“I’m already running late.”

“A _really_ quick blowjob?”

Combeferre groaned when Courfeyrac sucked at his collarbone. “Courf—no—I have to get ready,” he pushed him off gently. “Tonight. You can do whatever you want to me tonight, I promise.”

Courfeyrac smirked. “ _Whatever_ I want?That is _never_ what you should say to me.”

“Whatever you want,” Combeferre repeated, leaning in to peck Courfeyrac on the lips before moving around him to start finding the clothes he’d need.

“Deal,” Courfeyrac was still grinning. “Now you shower and I’ll have breakfast on the table for you.”

“You’re perfect.”

“I know.”

Combeferre chuckled, watching as Courfeyrac slipped out the bedroom door. His neck felt stiff, his back ached, and exhaustion had sunk into his bones, but the day seemed a little more manageable knowing Courfeyrac was there for him. He hurried off to shower, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Napoleon the cat is actually their pet cat. Marius originally adopted it when he was living with Courfeyrac in college only to find out 1. it's a girl cat and 2. he's allergic to her. So Courfeyrac and Combeferre ended up with Napoleon.


End file.
